


Laying Waste

by typoqueen



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Demons, Endverse, F/F, F/M, Gore, M/M, NSFW, Smut, Violence, kind of my own version of endverse though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-26
Updated: 2014-01-26
Packaged: 2018-01-10 02:57:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1153947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/typoqueen/pseuds/typoqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the end of the world as we know it.<br/>The apocalypse.<br/>Demons and all things Hellish are running the earth, and there's nothing anyone can do to stop it. Dispersed throughout the world's final moments are a few scenes of anger, of devotion, of pain, love, lust, violence, and of insanity. The sinful last hours of our world are played out, all cards are now on the table, all chips are in, and nobody will get out alive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Slaughter

**Author's Note:**

> While this is a work in progress there may not be a mention of every character I have tagged, but new chapters will be up as often as I can write them!
> 
> If there is anything you'd particularly like to see added, feel free to make suggestions in the comments and I'll see if I can weave it in there somehow.

_"I can’t wait to rip out those pretty green eyes."_

Abaddon had said that to him once, long ago, before he became who he is today. Dean hadn’t believed her, hadn’t thought she would ever get to do it. But when his soul was strapped to that rack in Hell, Dean had had so many parts of him torn up, torn out, shredded. She had saved his eyes for last, because she liked to look into them while she licked his blood from her fingers. 

But now, months later, with the world coming to an end, he couldn’t be any more perfect to her. Abaddon looks at him like a proud teacher looks at their favourite student. He’s strong, capable, willing to please. Dean is, more importantly, hers. It felt like such a triumph to look at the Winchester and see his eyes turn as black as hers. They stood ever so close, faces just millimeters apart, staring into each other’s eyes for a long time, until one of them would break the silence.

Around them lay the bodies of hundreds and thousands of innocents. There were mangled corpses, slashed necks, severed limbs, pools of blood everywhere. Dean had taken their lives in swift, elegant lashes, blood raining down upon him from his victims. The town had turned into an open-air aberttoir, the citizens his lambs. And just like a torturous god, he had slaughtered them. He had slaughtered them not just for Abaddon, but because he enjoyed it too.

Still in silence while he waits for Abaddon’s response, Dean reaches for her hand. When she doesn’t pull it away, he lays a gentle kiss upon the back of her hand, his lips leaving a wet, bloody, rose-shaped mark. The redhead smiles and cups his chin with that same hand.

"My little demon... You did good, kid,” Abaddon finally says and turns around to take a picture of the scene laid out before them on her polaroid camera. “I’m proud of you."

Later that day, when their work is finished and they must wash the blood from their bodies, Abaddon sinks into a warm pool of water. Dean follows her. Neither of them care about their nakedness, it just is what it is. They sit opposite one another for quite some time, mulling over all they had accomplished together. The redhead's arms are stretched casually out to either side, the top of her breasts just visible over the surface of the water. Dean doesn't realise at what point he stops thinking about the slaughter and starts to think about her instead. Her body, her eyes, her hair, everything about her.

They barely talk, but everything they want to say is said through looks and body language.

She tells him that has done well, and he tells her that he loves her, but their lips never speak.

Slowly, Dean begins to wash the blood away from him. He starts with his legs, works his way up his body, until finally he is washing his face. Cleansing is a good way to end a day like today. It gives a well-rounded feeling. When he is clean, Dean moves through the water effortlessly to be closer to Abaddon so he can wash her as well.

The redhead lets him, watching with a disconnected interest and amusement. He gently lifts one of her legs, using a sponge to clean in gently, circular motions from her toes to her thigh, and then again on the inside of her leg. When he reaches the top, Dean puts her leg down and does the same for the other leg. He's taking his time, relishing in every moment. He reaches around her torso and pulls her away from the edge of the pool so he can wash her back. He runs the sponge gently across her lower back, then down her spine, working his way around her shoulder blades, then the back of her neck where the thin silver line reminds him of a time when he had remorselessly cut her. He pauses only to tenderly kiss the scar, then continues to wash her arms.

Dean turns her around again, runs the sponge across her chest, lets his finger brush past her clavicle slowly. Traveling down between her breasts, he stops at her navel, then returns to cleanse each breast slowly and softly. When he's washed her lower stomach as well , Dean discards the sponge and brings his bare hands up to clean her face. He strokes away the blood and dirt, and kisses the pale skin that is revealed below.

The whole time he is washing her, Abaddon is patient, lets herself enjoy it. And now he's kissing her face, she notices how hard he is. Her hand reaches out below the water to take hold of his cock, and she kisses him back ferociously, hungrily, greedily. Nothing is ever enough for her, but just for now, while it's just them, she thinks it will do.

Dean cups one of her breasts, a little more roughly than when he was washing them, and pinches her nipple, rolling it between his finger and thumb, coaxing a little gasp from her. His tongue follows hers obediently as their mouths collide, and she bites on his lower lip. Her hand on his cock is pumping slowly, teasingly, and Dean's hips are moving in time with the rhythm, fucking into her hand.

Suddenly Dean pulls her harder towards him, grabs the back of her neck and increases the intensity of their kiss. Their lips and tongues and teeth move to punish one another, and Abaddon's hand releases his cock so she can position herself above it. As Dean holds her tightly in the water, the redhead lowers herself down onto him, taking his full, delicious length deep inside her. They stay like that for a moment, perfectly still, foreheads pressed against each other, eyes searching the other's for more unsaid words, unspoken devotion, unutterable love.

Abaddon still refuses to admit that demons can feel love.

And so she simply fucks him instead.

Her hips rock gently at first, grinding into him with a steady motion. Her hands are gripping behind his neck, her elbows tucked in and her face looking down at him. She traces one thumb along his jawline and then bites his neck, causing him to moan a little into hers. Dean's hands are roaming her back while his hips thrust upwards to meet her every movement. He grabs at her ass, stroking every inch of her to take her all in.

Water splashes around them, only adding to the erotic mood. The muscles in Dean's back ripple with each thrust, and Abaddon's breasts move up and down, enticing Dean to lean down and kiss one of them, sucking at her nipple.

Abaddon speeds up, clenching her muscles around his hard length, her eyes turned to black while they fuck at the end of the world. She reaches behind her to cup his balls, and squeezes perhaps a little harder than most would prefer. He's a demon now, though, and pain comes with the territory. He bucks his hips harder, the base of his cock bumping into her clit. Dean lets out a little growl, and then bites at her neck the way she had done to him. He's drawn blood, but that's okay. She likes it.

While they speed up, Dean slips a finger into her ass, gently working his way inside. She feels so full now, and she moans into his neck for more-- " _More_ , Dean. Harder-- Faster---". And so he lets a second finger join the first, moving them gently inside her at first, then scissoring them a little to stretch her tight little hole. She groans louder into his neck. Her hand tightens on his balls, her thrusts get harder and they can both feel their release coming.

Dean's other hand goes up to tangle itself in her beautiful red hair, and she tilts her head back, eyes closed, mouth open as a stream of moans escape her lips. Abaddon calls out his name, fucking down harder onto his cock as she orgasms. The muscles inside her clench hard on his dick, her legs tense up around him, and Dean is coming too now. He spurts thick, hot come into her, holding her hair tighter as he too says her name. His fingers in her ass can feel his hard cock through the skin inside and he takes advantage of the moment to pleasure them both as they ride out their climax locked together.

When they're finished, they relax, and remove their hands from each other's bodies, although Dean's cock remains inside of her. Abaddon loops her arms lazily around his neckand rests her head on his shoulder.

"That was good, baby," she says-- the first time she's spoken since their slaughter earlier that day.

"I know," Dean replies, stroking her hair. "I'd do anything for you."

"I know you would. You're a good little boy." She knows he hates being called that, so she does so frequently. "It's a shame that this will all be gone soon. But I suppose we must make the most of it before the world is laid to waste."


	2. Sisters in Arms

Meg watched Abaddon from behind the trees, waiting for the best moment to reveal herself. The redhead was busy torturing some poor innocent human on the hood of a car, and Meg was rather enjoying watching so she didn't want to interrupt.

When she was finished, Abaddon turned around, wiping her bloody hand on her black jacket.

"I know you're there, Meg," she called out, which unnerved the brunette demon. "You can come out now." Abaddon's voice sounded a little threatening, a little harsh, but she was merely curious as to why Meg had been following her this morning.

The sky was grey and dreary, hung all around with blood stained clouds. An icy wind whistled bitterly past Meg's face as she came out from the woods and she pulled her leather jacket tighter around her body, her sturdy boots crunching over some bones on the floor. She smiled at Abaddon with her head cocked to one side.

"Abby," Meg began with a smirk playing on her lips. "What a lovely surprise."

"It's not really a surprise, though, is it, Meg? I mean, come on... End of the world? Angel of destruction? I'm just doing my job, here, sweet-cheeks. Why were you watching me?"

"In all honesty--" Meg inwardly chuckled at that, since demons are very rarely entirely honest. "--- I was admiring your work. I liked the way you made that man scream your name before finally killing him. And, really, the way you cut off his many appendages was just so skillfully done... Takes a master of the trade to do all of that in less than five minutes."

"Well, I'm glad you approve. Now what do you want. You're not here just to watch-- I'm not stupid."

"I need your help."

"Oh, yeah? And why would I help you? You're just another stinking demon."

"Now, now, Abby, lets not get personal here," Meg laughed, not really caring what the redhead thought of her. "I've got some rogue demons that have taken my Hellhounds. They that think because it's the 'End' and all that, that they can do as they please. And you know what we do with naughty, disobedient demons that don't do as they're told, right?"

"Put them down, of course. Why on earth would you need my help with that?"

"Because there's a lot them. I can't take them all on my own, and I want my Hounds back."

"Right. I don't give a shit."

"I'll make it worth your while, Abby."

"Oh? How so?"

"You name it, and I'll do it. Only have a few months left, right? How about... I'll be your slave for a week?"

"I don't think I could put up with you for a week. Make it forty-eight hours, and you've got a deal."

Meg laughed, and nodded, stepping closer to Abaddon. The redhead stared at her, amusement in her eyes. Despite what people thought of the Knight, she actually enjoyed working with others every now and then. It didn't take long for them to locate the rogue demons who had stolen Meg's Hellhounds, and even less time to obliterate them entirely. 

The pair of women celebrated by draining the blood from the demons' meat suits and throwing human children into it, just to see their reactions. It was amusing for a while, but they ended the party by snapping all of their necks one by one. The screams were delightful, and Abby and Meg collapsed on the floor in fits of laughter. 

"Damn, that was the most fun I've had since... Well, since yesterday," Abaddon chuckled. Everyday was fun for her now that it was the apocalypse. From one day to the next she never knew what was on her agenda, but it was all fun and games. The redhead laid back on the blood-soaked ground and watched the sky. It was a constant grey colour these days, always overcast but never raining. She enjoyed the spooky atmosphere, soaked up the way it chilled to the bone.

She rolled over and looked at Meg with beady eyes. "So, Meg... Now you've got your Hellhounds back, you're mine. For two days, at least," the redhead said with a wicked grin that showed off her teeth in a rather wolfish manner.

"Oh, yes," Meg agreed. "I'm all yours, firecrotch."

Arching an eyebrow at Meg's chosen nickname for her, Abaddon found herself immediately on top of the other demon, pinning her wrists to the ground above her head. "I'm not all that fussed about my vessel's hair colour, Meg. In fact I rather like it. And since you're under my control now, I suggest you apologise before I have to rip off your jeans and spank you."

It was all said in jest, although Abaddon woud have no qualms about actually doing that. The pair laugh again, genuine smiles on their faces since they've been having a good time. Abaddon's red hair falls onto Meg's face, and she whips it back over her shoulder. Abby leans down and presses her lips to Meg's, eager to get what she can from the brunette in the next two days.


End file.
